Bilbo Gone
by Talking Hawk
Summary: Frodo reflects upon the night that Bilbo leaves Hobbiton. No slash.


The First Night  
  
By Talking Hawk  
  
Author's Note: Due to the wonderful response of "My Light is Gone," I decided to write another poem. I have always been intrigued about Frodo's reaction to Bilbo leaving, but sadly, his grief isn't fully described either in the book or the movie. So, here I am, trying to fill in the gaps once more. I hope you enjoy! (P.S. If you have the Pearl Harbor CD, start playing it at song two. It'll really add to the effect.)  
  
A wink, a crackle and a spark, and he is gone  
  
Gone just like that. . .  
  
Like he had never been there at all  
  
The people here do not understand,  
  
And run about, shouting and screaming  
  
In my own heart, I feel no panic  
  
But emptiness alone  
  
They cry out, "Bilbo, Bilbo! O please, come back!"  
  
Their cries are futile, for he is already gone  
  
But my heart pays no heed  
  
And cries along with them  
  
Bilbo, Bilbo, return, return!  
  
What am I to do without you?  
  
I have a home, yes, and  
  
Food for my belly  
  
But what is life without love?  
  
Friendship?  
  
Security?  
  
You?  
  
A light touch upon the shoulder,  
  
And I let out a small gasp, surprised  
  
It is Fredagar, Fatty, my friend. . .  
  
"You should go now," he whispers, foreboding in his voice  
  
He glances up, and I follow his gaze  
  
It is the Sackville-Bagginses, arguing with one another  
  
Upon who should be the first to ask for Bag End's keys  
  
Though I am the rightful heir  
  
Narrowing my eyes, I give a nod of my head  
  
And make my way through the crowd  
  
But then I stop at a sound that stills my heart  
  
A woman. . .weeping. . .  
  
I look about, mine eyes searching desperately  
  
For the sole griever  
  
And then I find her, standing alone,  
  
A wet handkerchief hanging from her clenched hand  
  
The hand almost as white as the handkerchief  
  
"O, Bilbo, Bilbo!" she cried out  
  
Her voice was that of old Mistress Daffodil  
  
A long-time friend of my uncle's  
  
Her shouts were no louder than the others,  
  
Their youth making up for their lack of feeling,  
  
But her words echoed in my heart  
  
"He's gone, he's gone!" she said  
  
"What am I to do?  
  
Who is to help me move the milk cans  
  
From the barn to the road?  
  
Poor, dear Bilbo! Gone, gone is he!"  
  
Pity welling up within me, I approached  
  
The woman and touched her elbow  
  
"Please do not weep, kind woman  
  
I will take my uncle's place, and  
  
Help you with your chores  
  
No trouble it is for me."  
  
Her lips parted, absorbing this information  
  
"Why. . .I can't thank you enough,"  
  
She finally said, a slight smile appearing  
  
"You're just like your dear uncle -  
  
Kind and generous."  
  
I froze, and the pat she gave my shoulder  
  
As she departed felt icy to the touch  
  
'Just like your dear uncle. . .'  
  
These words haunting me, I left for home  
  
* * *  
  
My thoughts drifted back to the first night. . . The first night that my heart knew what grief really was  
  
It was raining that night, the moon frightened away  
  
The stars blanketed by the storm clouds  
  
They had gone.swallowed by the river's angry mouth  
  
Forever to have their lungs filled with that life-giving water  
  
I sat at the window, looking out into the storm  
  
And finally breaking down in tears  
  
I knew, in my heart, that they were in some better place  
  
Merry and joyful at their returning to the Creator  
  
But, still. . .  
  
Why could I not be with them?  
  
I sat there for many hours  
  
My tears my only consolation  
  
Finally, sleep took hold of me  
  
And would not let go  
  
My eyes beginning to flutter shut,  
  
I felt two strong arms wrap about me  
  
And I slumped into the warm chest  
  
A pillow for my misery  
  
Knowing who it was, I spoke,  
  
"Bilbo. . ."  
  
"Hm?" came the gentle reply, a cradle for my woes  
  
"Are they.are they really gone?"  
  
I looked up, and gazed into his soft eyes  
  
Though they were mixed with curiosity,  
  
But then, discernment  
  
"Gone? Never will they be, my lad.  
  
They will always be here with you. . .  
  
Even unto the end of your days. . ."  
  
I felt my eyes wax over with new tears  
  
"Will I. . .ever see them again?  
  
Or will I only be able to visit them in my dreams?"  
  
It took him awhile to answer,  
  
A strange sound coming from his lips  
  
When he spoke  
  
"Yes. . .yes, you will.  
  
And happy will you be,  
  
And happy will they be. . ."  
  
He paused, thinking a bit.  
  
"You know, lad. . .that my parents are gone too."  
  
I jerked into full wakefulness  
  
"But you. . .you said that they'd never leave!"  
  
He turned to gaze back into my eyes,  
  
Wisdom glittering in them,  
  
As though he were telling one of his old tales again  
  
"They never will, lad. . .  
  
They're here with me, right now  
  
And with you too."  
  
I looked about the room,  
  
My hands lying against his shirt  
  
As though begging for an answer  
  
That I was not sure would ever come  
  
"But where ARE they?"  
  
A soft smile crossed his lips,  
  
His eyes twinkling again  
  
"Aye, the only place us mortals can live forever. . ."  
  
I looked up at him, waiting. . .  
  
Waiting for my answer. . .  
  
"Your heart, my boy. They're in your heart. No matter what you do, lad, they'll never go away. Not unless you let 'em."  
  
A cold splatter touched my arm,  
  
And my emotions racking my soul,  
  
I burst into tears and wrapped my arms about his neck  
  
"I'll never let them, Bilbo! Never!"  
  
A tender pat on the back  
  
"I believe you, boy. . . Don't worry, I believe you."  
  
* * *  
  
The first night at Bag-End  
  
The furthest I've ever been  
  
From everything I knew. . .  
  
Except Bilbo  
  
I tossed and turned in the bed all night  
  
Remembering that boat. . .  
  
That cursed boat. . .  
  
The Brandywine swallowed them up. . .  
  
Just an accident, just an accident, they said. . .  
  
A knock at the door  
  
"May I come in?"  
  
I was turned so that my back faced him  
  
"If I don't let you," I choke-sobbed,  
  
"Will you go away?"  
  
"Well," he started uneasily,  
  
"Depends on how you say it. . .  
  
If I can tell that you really want me to go away,  
  
I will  
  
But if I think that you need me  
  
Perhaps just as much as I need you. . .  
  
I don't think I will."  
  
A silent tear slid down my cheek  
  
"Will you go away like They did?  
  
Leaving me like They did?"  
  
The contempt in my tone did not vanish  
  
"Will you. . .will you. . ."  
  
I could not say "They" again  
  
Hot tears spilled down my face  
  
A pair of arms wrapped about me,  
  
Picking me up and holding me  
  
Cradling me. . .  
  
It is all too familiar for me not to cry once more  
  
Wanting my mother, wanting my father. . .  
  
Wanting to be a child again  
  
Just so then I could see their faces again  
  
A kiss upon my forehead  
  
So much like my mother,  
  
But yet. . .  
  
Not  
  
"I'll never leave you, lad,"  
  
He whispered  
  
"You know that."  
  
I clutched his shirt with one hand  
  
Bringing myself in to place my face  
  
Into his shirt,  
  
So that my sobs might be comforted  
  
"I-I know!" I finally whimper  
  
My face feeling hot and red  
  
Like a burn, leaving a scar that would never go away. . .  
  
"B-but. . .it still. . ."  
  
"Hurts?" he offered, brushing the curls  
  
Out of my face  
  
Closing my eyes, I meekly nod  
  
"They'll never leave you. . ." he insisted  
  
But his promise fell upon deaf ears  
  
"But then why did they?" I scoff harshly  
  
"And if they really WERE still here. . .  
  
How come. . ."  
  
I looked away, peering out the window  
  
No rain. . .  
  
"How come do I feel so alone?"  
  
He didn't answer  
  
* * *  
  
The first night, alone  
  
Just like before. . .  
  
Oh, Bilbo? I wonder  
  
Why did you leave me?  
  
Leave me to go to a better place  
  
Wherest I cannot be?  
  
Gandalf hast gone, and the house is empty  
  
Once more  
  
The shadows my only friends  
  
But wait. . .  
  
Did I see one move?  
  
No, can't be. . .  
  
I go into the living room  
  
Returning to my gloomy thoughts  
  
Taking seat upon a couch fine  
  
I curled up my knees to my chest  
  
My arms wrapped about them in the embrace  
  
I wished to have  
  
Alone, alone once more. . .  
  
The first night I have Bag-End to myself,  
  
Its new master  
  
How, what kind of a master can I be?  
  
Bilbo knew how to run things,  
  
How to make everything come out right,  
  
How to.how to do everything that I could not  
  
I sigh deeply, placing my cheek upon my knee  
  
The Gaffer is still the gardener - what shall I pay him?  
  
Oh, I suppose he will tell me what his wage is. . .  
  
Always so honest. . .  
  
But what about my other dealings?  
  
How might I handle them?  
  
Bilbo returns to mind  
  
Why can't I drive him away, even when he is  
  
Already gone?  
  
Every breath, every flinch  
  
Reminds me of him  
  
Why did he have to do this to me. . .  
  
A sob creeps on out of my throat  
  
And almost at the same time, I hear a lamp knock over  
  
Startled, I look up  
  
Fear and courage mixed into my tone  
  
"Who goes there!" I cried out as bravely as I could  
  
"I am the master of Bag-End, and I will have no thieves  
  
In my house on this night!  
  
Be gone, I say!"  
  
No reply at first  
  
Only the breeze coming in through an open window  
  
Finally, a hunched back rises up from behind a small desk  
  
Sitting up on his knees, he places his hands upon it for support  
  
"It's me. . ." the form whispers  
  
"Just me, Sam Gamgee. . ."  
  
Never could I have been happier to hear that name  
  
A fresh sob makes its way out of my throat,  
  
And I slap a hand over my mouth, thoroughly embarrassed  
  
In the moonlight, I could see the gardener's son frown  
  
"If you don't want me here, I'll just leave, if you want me to, sir. . ."  
  
"No, please!" I find myself crying out, a begging arm extended  
  
His eyes widen in surprise, and I shamefully curl my arm  
  
Back into my lap  
  
"Please. . ." I whisper, "stay with me. . ."  
  
He stares at me a moment, then gives a slight nod of his head  
  
He sits down on the couch next to me, and I find myself  
  
Twiddling my thumbs  
  
Trying to organize my thoughts  
  
For the listening ears that awaited my words  
  
"I. . ." I said, as though in a daze  
  
I looked up at nothing in particular  
  
"I just thought he'd never leave me, that's all. . ."  
  
Silence was my reply  
  
Slowly, I turned so that his eyes  
  
Met mine  
  
"Sam. . ."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Will you ever. . .leave me?"  
  
He blinks, clearly taken aback  
  
"Well, sir, I'd be more a-worried  
  
'Bout you leavin' ME. . ."  
  
"Answer my question, please. . ." I whispered  
  
My heart fearing it might be broken for a third time  
  
I gazed into my eyes for a moment,  
  
The brown in his eyes shimmering for a moment,  
  
Considering, thinking. . .  
  
But, then, I already knew the answer  
  
* "Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee." And I don't mean to. . . *  
  
* I don't mean to. . . * 


End file.
